Kinky Bucket List – Saline Infusion

As I said in my wrap-up of Saturday at Tryst, I wanted to make a separate post of the saline infusion.  There are a couple of reasons for that. First, I wanted to be able to link directly to it from my Kinky Bucket List page, where you’ll be able to keep up with all the items that I manage to complete (before I’m too old to care.) 😉 Second, my Saturday post was a long one.  The addition of this one would have made it too long.  And last, I wanted to create a special page of photos to go along with the post, photos that I don’t want you to have to join Bondage Demons to view, but which are a little too graphic for this space. So I’ve done that. You’ll be able to find that link at the bottom of the post.
Well, then, let’s start at the very beginning, shall we?
If you don’t know anything about saline infusion, you can find a bit of information here: salineinfusion.info. It’s focused on scrotal infusion, but the idea is the same for infusing other body parts, such as the inner or outer labia – which of course is what interests me.
I had been curious about saline injections ever since a friend of a friend had mentioned it at a party several years ago. At the time I was horrified–and yet oddly, secretly, turned on–by her story of a Mistress that had infused her (the bottom’s) labia. I couldn’t admit that I was turned on by it though. I was with the Ex at the time, and that was way beyond his interest/comfort level. I had mentioned a couple “edgy” kinky things that turned me on before to him and been treated…well, um…let’s just say that he wasn’t as accepting as one might hope. So I had learned to keep my kinkier fantasies to myself.  Those early experiences with him caused me to keep a lot of things that I was curious about or fantasized about to myself, and in fact it took me four years (okay, maybe 3.5) to even bring this up to W.
It is one of the most wonderful (amazing, mind-blowing) things about my relationship with W that he has never, ever made me feel ashamed for fantasizing about some seriously fucked-up shit. Neither has Ad, for that matter, though it’s different with W, because W gets off on a lot of those things too.  Ad doesn’t, so much, but he’s never made me feel bad about them, even if they aren’t his cup of tea.
Another difference is that many times W will actively try to make those fantasies a reality, if I want them bad enough.
The saline infusion was one such fantasy. It was me that set it up, but W was as turned on by the idea as I was, and,  surprisingly, so was Ad. Once I had found someone I trusted to do it, both Guys were on board and very keen to make it happen.
Based on what I’d heard and read, I was afraid of the pain that I was sure would be involved in the infusion. I was afraid of the needles, of the burning sensation that I had been told to expect, of how my body would react. But all of that worrying and fear was unnecessary.  The needles were a barely perceptible poke, much less than my piercings, and well, we all know how much I love getting poked with needles anyway.  The inflation of first one side of my outer labia and then the other was no more uncomfortable than a gentle pressure and a small bit of occasional burning as my body adjusted to the fluid.
In fact, it kind of turned me on.
Part of that, of course, was that I had three men – my two Guys and UnkleP, the kinkster that was performing the inflation – staring at my girlparts. Very closely.

It may also have had to do with how UnkleP did the infusion: very slowly and precisely, with room temperature saline, checking in on me and assessing how I was handling it as he went. He’s a master, truly.
And afterwards…my lips were hugely swollen, far more than I had imagined.
I had expected them to be more sensitive than usual, but they really weren’t.  It was cool walking with them swollen and protruding between my legs, though, since my thighs rubbed and squeezed on them. And when W tied the rope around them, squeezing them further, it made them throb with a life of their own. Another yummy thing was that the Guys discovered they could squeeze the fluid back and forth between my inner and outer labia, something none of us had expected.  And then, getting fucked with the inner labia all swollen up around my rings…damn. That was something else.
The only disappointment was that the pussy-whipping I had hoped for – something brutal and vicious, something that pushed me to the end of my endurance before they fucked me – wasn’t possible.  They did crop my pussy a bit, but with my rings, it was too intense.  This was one time that I wish we could have removed my rings.  It wasn’t to be, though.  However, the picture of my lips swollen around my rings is almost enough to make up for it.
The swelling lasted through a double fucking by the guys, a cropping in the trees, a walk about camp, an ass boxing and a pony breeding, but then, by morning, it was gone.
Would I do it again? I’m already planning to.  But this time, maybe we can remove the rings. 😉
Click here to see all the pictures and read more of the story.

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